Chapter 33
Twenty minutes ago…
“I’m going after him,” I declare, marching toward the manor.
Brutus grabs my arm. “You can’t go in there.”
“I am not letting him do this alone,” I growl, refusing to be carted away.
Brutus turns from me to Milly, looking like he wishes he could just slap the lot of us for our stubbornness. I don’t blame him. We are a problematic bunch.
“You’re not going to listen to us, are you?” he asks. I shake my head and he sighs. “Fine. I’ll go find Alistair and tell him to come to you.”
Smiling, I hug him tightly. Surprised by the action, he just stands there for a moment before awkwardly patting my back. “Alright, let me go so I can get him.”
“Wait,” I take off my pack and dig out the quill that I stole from Jareth. Using a page from my journal, I scribble a note onto it for Alistair. I don’t trust him not to ignore Brutus and go after Orrin anyway.
Alistair (you get no nicknames from me since I’m furious with you),
I don’t know why this needs to be stated to you in writing as I think I’ve made myself perfectly clear, but I’m not leaving you. Not until the day I die. And if you do anything stupid that may result in us being parted sooner than death, I will hate you forever.
If you have any arguments against my decision, feel free to come and find me. Fair warning: if you don’t come find me in the next ten minutes, I’ll find you.
-Stella
The moment the quill scrapes the last flourish of my name on the page, I feel a strange sensation spread across my body like glitter sparkling through my veins. I blink, feeling a tug on my chest that tries to pull me back toward the manor.
I glance at the sun, wondering if the curse has overcome the power of the necklace to drag me to the dining room, but we still have at least twenty minutes until sunset.
“I don’t understand. If it’s not the curse…” I look around, confused, and my eyes skim over the note in my hand. And then the quill. Wait…
I quickly reread my words, which are now written in shimmering ink. Magic. A grin stretches across my face.
“Miss Stella?” Milly asks, worried.
“Get Alistair. I know how to take down the duke.”
Ten minutes later, I’m hiding in an empty horse stall waiting for Alistair.
Brutus stands guard by the stall door—Milly insisted that he stay and protect me. And because I wanted to get Alistair here as quickly as possible, I didn’t argue with her about it.
When we hear a set of footsteps entering the stables, Brutus straightens from the wall and slides closer to the stall door, motioning for me to stay back in the corner. I do as he indicates and wait as the footsteps draw nearer.
“Lady Lion?” Alistair whispers.
I don’t wait for Brutus to move out of the way, pushing him aside and opening the stall door. Then I launch myself at Alistair.
He catches me, stumbling back a few steps and laughing into my hair. Even when he sets my feet on the ground, I don’t let go, my arms banded tight around his middle.
“It’s good to see you too, Freckles,” he says, his smile turning into a glare. “But you were supposed to be long gone by now. What’s this Milly tells me about a way to take down Orrin?”
Reluctantly, I pull out of his hold and dig the note I wrote out of my pocket. “Here, look.” I point to the shimmering letters. “The quill is magical; we just weren’t using it right. When we tested it yesterday and wrote that your curse had been broken, we assumed that the quill made written words true. But what it actually does is make any vows or contracts signed with this quill magically bound. You see, I wrote that I wouldn’t be parted from you until I die, and the moment I signed my name, I felt myself being pulled back to the manor. To you.”
“That’s just the curse—”
“Then how come I don’t feel pulled to the manor now?” I demand, hands on my hips. “I feel pulled to you.”
His brows furrow as he considers my words, his dimples deepening as he purses his lips. “Give me the quill.”
I hand the magical artifact over and he flips my note to the other side, scribbling something on the back. I know the moment he writes his name because he straightens up, his green eyes finding mine immediately.
“Well?” I ask.
A smile breaks out across his face, and he wags the quill in his hand. “I think I just made some magical marriage vows.”
He hands me the paper.
Little Wolf,
This manor is a prison—or was. But you made it a palace. You brought light to the darkest little paradise. And while I think this should go without saying, I hope that having some magic back up my words will assure you of how I feel.
I love you, Little Wolf, and I will not leave you until the day I die. You make me crazy, but I don’t think it would be love if you didn’t. So I promise to keep loving your crazy and no one else’s until the very end.
-Alistair
I smile at the makeshift vows, slightly embarrassed that Brutus is close by listening. But the shimmering ink of Alistair’s vows prove my theory correct.
“If Orrin signs a contract with this quill, he’ll be magically bound to it.”
“But didn’t he send you to find that quill?” Alistair points out. “Won’t he know what it is once he sees it?”
I shrug at the golden quill in his hand. “Nothing a little paint can’t hide.”